5
Things were most certainlynotgoing according to plan.
Richard stood beside his halted coach with a wheel so thoroughly splintered it looked as though it had been attacked by a battering ram rather than struck by an unfortunate rock. With the sun already high in the sky and no clouds in sight, the heat pressed down on them with relentless determination. He glanced upward and let out a quiet sigh. There was no telling how long the delay would be, but given his luck, it would be several hours at least.
Beside him stood Miss Theodosia, looking utterly unbothered by their predicament. She was dressed in a blue traveling habit that suited her figure entirely too well, with her dark hair tucked neatly beneath a coordinating bonnet. She had her hands folded in front of her, as if she were standing in the drawing room rather than beside a broken carriage on a dusty road in the middle of nowhere. Her serene expression only served to irritate him further.
A footman approached, one end of a neatly folded blanket draped over his forearm. “It may take some time to replace thewheel, my lord,” he reported. “Would you like me to lay out a blanket for you while you wait?”
Richard opened his mouth to reply, but Miss Theodosia stepped in without hesitation.
“There’s no need. I can lay out the blanket for his lordship,” she said brightly, reaching out her gloved hand.
The footman hesitated. “It’s no trouble, Miss.”
“I insist,” she replied, tone polite but firm. “You’ll be of far more use assisting with the wheel.”
After another uncertain glance between them, the footman gave a small bow and handed over the blanket.
Miss Theodosia turned her head slightly and gestured towards a patch of shade beneath an enormous oak tree just a few yards off the road. “We can sit over there. It should be far more comfortable than standing in the sun.”
Without waiting for his agreement—or perhaps anticipating his protest—she began walking towards the tree with the blanket tucked under one arm.
Richard followed, falling into step beside her with a long-suffering sigh. “Do you always take charge of situations that don’t require your involvement?”
She gave him a wide-eyed look that could have passed for innocence if not for the glint of mischief in her gaze. “Whatever do you mean?”
“The footman could have easily laid the blanket down for us. It’s his job.”
“And are we so helpless that we cannot manage a blanket ourselves?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“That’s not the point,” he muttered.
“Then do enlighten me, my lord. What is the point?”
He huffed. “It’s simply a matter of propriety. Of station.”
She came to an abrupt halt and turned to face him. “Propriety? Forgive me, but I would rather the man attend to the broken wheel—something that actually requires strength—than spend his time smoothing a blanket upon the ground. Don’t you agree?”
He opened his mouth to argue but stopped. “You make a good point?—”
She cut in, already walking again. “Why do I sense a ‘but’ is coming?”
“Because…” he said, catching up, “you deprived him of doing his job.”
She laughed softly. “Laying down a blanket is hardly a task of national importance. I daresay even you could manage it.”
“I’m sure I could,” he said, only mildly affronted. “But that’s not the?—”
“We’re here,” she announced cheerfully, spreading the blanket on the grass in one graceful motion. She turned to him with a smug smile. “Look what I’ve accomplished. All on my own.”
He eyed her with no small amount of exasperation and lowered himself onto the farthest corner of the blanket, as though keeping distance might preserve his sanity.
Despite himself, he relished the opportunity to be off his feet. His legs ached from hours in the saddle, and every muscle in his back protested the jostling of the coach. Still, he would have preferred a steaming bath in his townhouse to this roadside interlude with the most maddening woman he had ever met.
From the reticule dangling from her wrist, Miss Theodosia retrieved a small green book—the very same one she had been reading the day before. She opened it and looked over at him with a hopeful expression. “Would you care for me to read aloud?”
“Good gads, no. That book sounded intolerably dull yesterday, and I cannot imagine it's improved overnight.”
